


Above All, Do Not Play God

by FanfictionalRatt



Series: Still Human [3]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, Intimacy, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Therapy, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanfictionalRatt/pseuds/FanfictionalRatt
Summary: If you cut a man, he will bleed. If you inflict pain on someone else - it will leave an ugly mark. As daily duties and mercenary work trudge on - the BLU Medic found himself disintegrating - trying, but failing not to re-open old wounds. Drowning himself in paperwork and responsibilities to get away from the thought of treating himself and acknowledging how he truly feels, an old “friend” from the other side rings him up. He has a patient in desperate need of his help. Third and final part of the “Still Human” series.
Relationships: Medic/Scout (Team Fortress 2)
Series: Still Human [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779805
Comments: 33
Kudos: 56





	1. Another Day, Another Patient

**Author's Note:**

> Read the first 2 parts or it won't make sense. Warnings for non-descript sex and some violence.

Shadows danced on the ceiling of his room, the Medic lay awake in his bed.

It was sometime past 2 am - he had given up looking at the clock for some time now, hoping he would fall asleep faster if he ignored the time. The room was rather dark, and only the faint light of the moon illuminated what little he could see. As he turned his head ever so slightly to his left, he wished the moon didn’t reflect any light at all.

Beside him, the Scout snored gently, his lanky limbs tangled up together like a comfy contortionist. He was a radiating source of heat in the cold night - and Medic could feel his presence, however hard he closed his eyes. He was very close to him, and the tips of the Scout’s fingers touched his exposed left arm - leaving a burning, irresistible sensation where he touched.

Although he had a ‘double’ bed, it definitely did not fit two people, the Medic noted to himself.

Sleeping together had become a common ritual for the two - over the last 2 months after the ceasefire, the Scout had come to stop by and sleep with the Doctor at least once a week. He had to creep down to the infirmary once everyone else had gone to bed, as he didn’t want to raise any suspicion for being there too often, especially in the middle of the night. Just like the Scout said - he didn’t want the others to think he was some sort of _faggot._

Quietly, the Medic sighed. At the time he had agreed to doing this - but it was getting very hard not to regret his own choices.

As the Scout murmured unintelligible nonsense in his deep slumber - he shifted his arm slightly, now reaching over the Medic’s arm, onto his chest. Scout’s right hand now limply draped over the older man’s torso, the Medic prayed to any God up above that he wouldn’t feel - or hear his racing heart.

Closing his eyes tightly and bracing himself for whatever emotion would take over him next - the Medic clenched his fist, digging his short, but sharp nails into the flesh of his palm. As he breathed through clench teeth, he reveled in the brief pain. It hurt - but it wasn’t enough to distract him.

He sighed, a little more loudly this time, as he rose from the bed and put a coat on, preparing to at least leave the room he was in. Some things - some _sensations_ were too much - and he was getting overwhelmed. He knew he would once again fail to sleep tonight, and would face a concerned scolding from the Scout in the morning - but this was too much for him to take right now.

As he opened the door to leave the room, the Scout murmured an almost inaudible, but still clear, call for the Medic. Shifting his gaze down, the Medic closed the door as quietly, and as slowly as he could.

~oOo~

It was probably 3 am by now.

The Medic sat at his desk, idly flipping through another boring document under the dim, yellow light of his desk lamp. As much as he tried processing the words on the page, they left his brain right before he could recall anything enough to go to the next line of words. Removing his small, round spectacles, he massaged his eyes, audibly sighing.

Although he knew he shouldn’t think about it - the emotions that soared through his brain didn’t much help the blood pumping in places it really should have no business being in.

 _Maybe,_ Thoughts creeped into the Medic’s head, despite how much he didn’t want them to. _Maybe just a little bit…_

Catching himself before his hand arrived onto the top of his pants - he clenched his weakly exposed palm into a fist.

 _No._ He argued within himself. _This - this is wrong._

There was a snarky laugh in his head as another part within him heard that - and the face the Medic saw in his head - his own face, looked back at him as it’s mocking smile turned into a jeering sneer.

 _What’s wrong?_ It said. _It’s not like he will ever know._

 _No._ Medic closed his eyes tightly. _I can’t. Not to him. Not like this._

The man inside his head laughed mockingly at his words. _Not like this!_ It mimicked him. _It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you_ so _attached to a boy. Is he that important to you? Hm?_

Even in his own head, the Medic remained silent. As he stared blankly at his now open palm before him, the _thing_ in his head clicked its tongue, as if scolding him.

 _Tsk, tsk. You could never hide from the truth. Much less -_ It said as it approached him, as if in a foggy nightmare. ... _Me._

 _Let go,_ It’s voice became soothing and low, much like his own. _He never has to know._ It smiled sympathetically. _And he never will._

In the dark, shadowy room of the infirmary, not a sound was heard from anyone as the Medic sighed. Lowering his hand below his torso, the tired, erratic Doctor gave into temptation.

~oOo~

“Batter up!”

The Scout yelled as the bat he held in his hand impacted the skull of another enemy team member - in this case the RED Demoman. As the man fell before him, screaming unintelligibly, the Scout laughed as he continued to beat him with his bat.

The job done, and the body of the enemy member fading - the Scout surveyed his now-bloody bat, and whistled. He didn’t often stand around like this on the battlefield, but he was in the underground tunnels of the enemy base, and nobody else was around to see him lollygagging. Taking a breather, he decided to casually stroll towards the next corner.

As he turned the corner, Scout saw a flash of red. Instinctively jumping back, he pulled out his pistol and shot blindly. One bullet impacted the wall beside him as the Scout cursed himself for his inattention - the pistol was clicking, and he had used his last bullet on a missed shot. Before him, the RED Scout stood leaning on the wall beside him, his arms crossed and bat resting on his right shoulder.

“Watch where ya’ shootin’, dumbass.”

The Scout’s first instinct was to freeze. He was expecting a bullet to come at him, not some dialogue. As RED looked coolly towards the Scout, he continued to speak.

“I’m standing ‘ere, chucklenuts. And I ain’t movin’.” Scout looked on in response, his mouth slightly agape. RED sneered. “What? Cat got your fuckin’ tongue or somethin’?”

As the Scout came back to his senses, he responded hesitantly. “...The fuck are you doin’ here man?”

RED shrugged. “I’m just chilling, dude.”

Scout blinked. “Whattabout the fight? Ya know - your _job?_ ”

Rolling his eyes, RED responded nonchalantly. “What about it? It’s not like my team fuckin’ needs me anyway.” He spat at the dirty water in the tunnel. “One more, one less - nobody fuckin’ cares.”

Scout grimaced. God, the guy sounded _exactly_ like him a while back. Slowly pulling out his own bat, he readied himself into a striking position. “...Well, _I_ gotta do my job.”

RED smirked, readying his own bat. “I was hopin’ ya’d say that, fucker.”

Scout struck first. It was a hesitant blow, but it landed squarely on the side of RED’s head regardless. RED hit the wall he was leaning on, and his body slumped to the ground weakly, as the grip on his own bat loosened.

Surprised and hesitant at RED’s lack of fight - the Scout took an instinctive step back. The RED Scout was bleeding from a wound in his head, as well as from his nose. RED should have been able to dodge that. Easily.

Now, dizzy and disoriented from the blow, RED still managed to look up from where he was slumped, a jeering, white-faced grin showing with his bloody teeth. “Kill me, bastard.”

Scout gulped. Although he knew this was his job - fighting against someone like this...felt _wrong._ As he hesitated on the final blow, RED spat blood into the dirty water below and wiped his bloody chin.

“...I heard about you and that fuckin Medic.” He grinned mockingly.

The Scout froze. RED laughed a little too loudly.

“You fucking _faggot._ ”

As RED Scout spoke his last words, the environment around Scout seemed to transform into a solid sheet of the color red. When he swung down his bat next, he did not hesitate.

As Scout ran out of the tunnel and back into the battlefield, he did not turn back.

~oOo~

There was a pat on his back, and some cheering involved. It was the end of the day, and they had successfully stolen the intel from the opposing team. They had won this round - and it was in no small thanks to the Scout. As the Soldier boomed with congratulatory phrases at a disgruntled Sniper, and the Demo said some unintelligible slurred towards the Heavy he was walking with, Scout nonchalantly slid beside the Medic from behind the rest of the team. He had taken to getting compliments from the Medic at the end of every battle - and he very much enjoyed the rewards he was given after every win.

The Medic seemed...out of it, today. Not even noticing that the Scout had approached him, he jumped slightly when the Scout spoke in greeting. “Hey Doc,” Scout beamed. “How’d I do today?”

Hastily adjusting his glasses, the Medic turned to look at the younger man. “Guten Abend, herr Scout.” He coughed, concealing his shaky greeting. “...You did well today.”

The Scout frowned. Somehow he expected something a bit... _more._ He did win them the intel after all. “That’s it?” He nudged him with his elbow. “Come on Doc, I basically saved your ass back there!” He laughed jokingly. “Ya gotta say a bit more than _that.”_

“Er...” The Medic looked away. Feigning a stiff smile, he re-adjusted his posture. “I mean it vhen I say you did well. I am assured you vill carry us onwards in future battles.” He said in an oddly strained, but gentle voice that didn’t suit his distant eyes. “Now if you will excuse me - I need to do some work in the infirmary.” Before the Scout could raise any complaints, the Medic coughed.

“Please do not follow me, today.” He said sternly enough to keep Scout quiet. “I am expecting an important phone call and I vill not have time to speak.”

The Scout pouted, but obliged. Begrudgingly nodding, he tipped his cap down. “...Alright, whateva.”

The Medic sighed as he shook his head. Looking back up once more to the Scout, he said as gently as he could.

“You are an important member of our team, Scout.” He smiled. “To everyone - and me.”

As the Medic walked away, Scout looked down and tipped his hat even lower, hoping to god that nobody would notice the fact that he was blushing.

~oOo~

Medic’s head was on his desk.

Idly looking at the bright blue telephone beside him, he wondered when his ‘colleague’ would finally ring. The bastard was always _so_ loose with time when he wanted to be - and it wasn’t an understatement to say that he wished he would burn in hell for it sometimes.

Evening rays danced with shadows on the infirmary book shelves, as the Medic sat alone at his desk. It was long past supper, and his stomach was growling. His colleague had said he was going to ring soon - but he still contemplated on ditching the call and going out to get dinner first. As he shifted in his seat in an uncomfortable hunger, the phone finally rang.

Sighing, the Medic straightened his posture and picked up the phone.

 _“Guten Abend, Herr Arzt.”_ The voice on the other end was smooth and familiar - a higher range than his own, in an accent that he could only place as _Hessian -_ a german accent based around Frankfurt.

The Medic sighed. “What do you want.” He responded back flatly in german.

“Oh I just wanted to talk of course - how is my favorite colleague doing?” The Medic could almost hear the man’s white grin from across the line, as his brows furrowed.

“We do not have time for this.” The Medic cut in. “State your cause or I will cut this line.”

“My, such an impatient man!” The man on the other end laughed. “As much as I would like to say the direct reason, rules of privacy dictates I cannot. You understand that we may be monitored even here, yes?” The man ended flatly. “Well, I am here with a business proposition for you-” He paused. “I have a patient in need of your immediate support.”

At this the Doctor’s eyebrows rose in suspicion. “What do you mean, patient? You are a doctor - if not a failed one - you are still a doctor, are you not, Medic?”

The RED Medic on the other end laughed heartily. “You know more than anyone that I am not a doctor - I am a Scientist. An Inventor. But I am far from a Doctor.” RED Medic - the Scientist, sighed. “Unfortunately, there are cases even I cannot cure, or help. There are issues of the body, issues of physics, chemistry - and then there are issues of the brain.”

Still silent, the Medic raised an eyebrow in quiet questioning. “Go on.” He pushed.

“There are cases even I am ill-prepared to handle.” The RED Scientist told him. “And you - the Medic, the _true_ doctor who has dealt with veterans and the depressed, are much more capable of taking under.” He paused thoughtfully, as the sounds of birds cooing could be heard quietly from across the line. “One of my team members is not doing...very well.” He ended doubtfully. “I would not know what the issue is - but I was requested by a good friend - the Spy - that I take care of the boy.”

The Medic furrowed his brow. “And why must I help you with this? We both know how much of a messy issue this can be. To tread across the lines of RED and BLU is not what one can do without consequence.”

The Scientist sighed. “It is not like I have much of a choice here - my _friend_ is quite literally holding me to this spot - with a gun. To my head.” He laughed. “Finicky thing, isn’t he?”

Tired and exasperated, the Medic let his mouth fall agape. Unfortunately, despite all the madman’s flaws, he wasn’t one to lie. “Alright,” He gave up, massaging his temples. “Tell me the condition of the boy, and I will see what I can do to help.”

“The Scout is suicidal.” The Scientist said, finally serious. “For the last few days he has been failing to accomplish any tasks on the battlefield - always dying before he could get anywhere. Although we blamed it on the return of break - it has gone on for too long. But it was only today - only today when he shot himself outside of the battlefield.” He paused. “The Soldier was drilling into him before we saw him leave - he went on his usual run, when the Engineer noticed that someone had tampered with the respawn machine. Scout was gone, and so was his pistol.” The Scientist sighed. “Luckily we had caught the error in the machine in time - he respawned, and has been contained to a holding cell ever since. Spy has taken away his weapons - but we are worried that he will do something _worse_ if he gets out.”

“Alright.” Medic agreed tiredly. “I will help the boy - but if anything happens to my position, you will be the first person I go after.”

“Oh don’t worry.” The Medic exclaimed laughingly. “I would rather keep my neck too - this _mission_ has been approved by the administrator. She would rather not lose funds on a good respawn machine and wasted Australium, herself.” He sighed. “Anyways, I must go. I believe an explanation must be given to my _good friend_ before he gets impatient enough to shoot me.”

“Good bye, or as my friend here would say - _au revoir!_ ”

As the line went dead, Medic put the phone down, and wondered what he had gotten himself into now.


	2. Man of Science, Man of Medicine

There were men even  _ he  _ could barely tolerate. Hate was much too strong a word for his passive dislike towards them - but among others, they were the people he did not want to become anything like.

The RED Medic was one of them.

As the BLU Medic laboured through another sleepless night of paperwork and overthinking, he reflected on how he had first come to know of the man he now despised. Momentarily surprised that the word  _ despise _ came to mind at the thought of the RED Medic, he blinked, but continued silently on his review. Maybe he did hate him.

He always was a bastard.

~oOo~

It started with some talk over the news.

It wasn’t him talking with the friendly group - it rarely ever was - but the few doctors who had a break were speaking over something they saw in the paper. In a time where the main doctors of the countryside hospitals were still dominated by middle-aged men with golden hair and firm city accents, it was a ‘marvel’ that Ludwig - how he hated his own name - was allowed to be there at all.

_ “...and he looked exactly like him!” _ One of the doctors proclaimed to another, their smirks unhidden despite their whispering voices. It was loud enough for Ludwig to hear it from across the room - although he busied himself with other tasks, he still listened attentively to his surroundings - as he often did since his childhood. They were all in the cooler room, some collecting refreshments and snacks, some lounging in the sofas to take naps, and some - specifically the gossiping group of men - right by the water coolers, talking about idle nonsense.

For the most part, Ludwig ignored the talk about him. Although it wasn’t often that they openly talked negatively about him in the same room as him - it wasn’t uncommon either, for the aged, golden-haired men to not hide their discontempt towards the young, Jewish doctor. Apparently it was  _ the people like him  _ who had cost them a war - and their reputation as a country.

_ “It’s no surprise.” _ One of them said quietly, as he sipped his own drink.  _ “Corpses are abundant in that region - one or two are bound to have gone missing. But to think it was a practitioner that was stealing the bodies… I must say I feel sorry for the hospital to have such an irresponsible doctor.” _

Ludwig’s jaw tightened, but he kept his mouth shut. In hindsight, he knew  _ exactly  _ who they were talking about.

He had seen the news clip, and the mugshot of a smiling young man - a man that looked almost identical to himself. From his sleekly combed black hair to his sharp jawline and round spectacles, the man on the news shared an uncanny resemblance to the person he saw in the mirror. There was a glint in his eyes on that black and white photograph of him that negated a sense of  _ madness  _ \- something that his white, sharp teeth and the handcuffs on his (presumably) bloody hands only strengthened. Although they looked very much alike, they also felt very  _ different. _

Sighing quietly, Ludwig left the room. As the men in white coats snickered behind him, he checked his wristwatch and shut the door. It was time for his next appointment.

~oOo~

_ “I thought I saw you on the news today, and I almost had a heart attack!” _ The patient before Ludwig laughed casually as he set himself down on the chair before him.

In the small, very square and white examination room, only a couple of chairs, a table, and a bare bed was all Ludwig could see. Warm light from the spring sun flooded the room, and the man that sat before him smiled at the doctor with a compassionate, gentle expression. Ludwig smiled politely in response.  _ “I am glad to see that you are doing well.” _

_ “I am!” _ The young man beamed.  _ “I’ve felt more alive than I’ve been in a while - and I’m finally getting used to this new leg you gave me.” _

_ “Glad to hear that.”  _ Ludwig said plainly as he scribbled down some notes regarding the man’s physical condition. It was this patient’s monthly checkup - since he’d replaced his lost leg several months ago, the man had been undergoing physical therapy under Ludwig’s care. He had lost his leg in the second war about five years ago - but only this year was the government subsidizing for the young man’s lost limb. Unable to provide for himself, work, or move as he wanted to, the wheelchair-bound man had been known as an ‘untreatable case’ - riddled with depression, rage, and post-traumatic stress disorder.

When Ludwig first met him in the veteran care ward, he certainly met his reputation of being ‘untreatable’ - he was an irritable, drunk, and a paranoid mess. The young man had been launched onto the end of the war when he was 18 - and came home, injured, into a country that had nothing left. five years later, he was 23 now, but unable to care for himself or his family. In depression and anger, he drowned himself into a spiraling cycle of alcoholism and self-medication - exacerbating his own condition, and worsening his reputation to the doctors around him. It was only until doctor Ludwig offered to help that his condition became even slightly better - and even then it was a hard, uphill battle.

_ “...Are you alright doc?” _ The patient said as he cocked his head to the side. Both still rather young, the man seemed to have an affinity for the slightly older Jewish doctor. Although Ludwig couldn’t tell if it was entirely friendly, he knew that there was a bond of trust between the both of them.

Ludwig sighed.  _ “Oh I’m fine. I’m just slightly affected by the news, is all.”  _ He massaged his temples.

_ “Oh,” _ The man responded.  _ “Sorry for bringing it up.”  _ He said as he averted his eyes.

_ “Don’t worry about it.” _ Ludwig said as he smiled slightly.  _ “It’s a personal issue, more than anything.” _

For a minute, the man didn’t respond. After a while, he nodded, speaking quietly.  _ “I understand. I do wish you would say more about your personal matters - but I guess that isn’t really  _ professional, _ of you to do.” _ He smiled sheepishly.

Smiling back, Ludwig nodded politely.  _ “It really isn’t.” _

_ “...So what did that man do, anyways? I just saw him on the headlines - and he looked exactly like you.”  _ The patient asked, scratching his head in thought. It was an innocent, honest question - but for a moment, Ludwig wished he didn’t need to answer.

_ “Well...”  _ Ludwig faltered.  _ “To say it simply, he stole some corpses from a morgue. It was found he was using them for several personal ‘experiments’ - he was a doctor at that hospital who had lost his license several months ago.”  _ He coughed.  _ “Needless to say - that man is indeed not me, and I disagree with all the views he’d stated in the paper.” _

The patient thought in silence.  _ “Well, I hope this doesn't affect your reputation or anything.”  _ He finally said.  _ “That’s a really shit thing to do - and I know that you’re better than that. I just hope others know that too.” _

Ludwig sighed.  _ “I’m hoping so, too.”  _ He looked up at his patient as he smiled tiredly.

~oOo~

Word of the man on the news spread quickly after that day.

Through a combination of the incident being on national news - and the worst luck possible - the small veteran hospital he worked at had become a target for complaints. People had discovered him, a  _ disgusting _ doctor who  _ looked _ like he should be in jail - and complained that they were re-hiring the man on the news - in their small local hospital, where reputation from their clients was everything they had.

Short story short, Ludwig was fired.

Alone, apathetic, and not even  _ angry _ at what the others had done to him - Ludwig spent his days drinking and mourning in silence. It was around then, when the new  _ offer  _ came.

It came in a purple envelope.

~oOo~

_ “Doc, come on man!” _

Ludwig hurried across the battlefield. It was one of his first days on the job, and everything so far was chaos. Blood spattered across the field as the BLU Scout killed another man in red clothing, and he barely glimpsed at the fading bodies as he turned on the medigun and observed the blue rays engulf the younger man. He still wondered who the hell invented this kind of technology.

_ “Thanks doc!” _ As the young man scampered off in search of another kill - he heard another member of his team call for help. It was the Heavy.

Running up to the injured man, he saw him raise a finger to his mouth. On the curb passed their location was an ubercharged Medic and Soldier - their crazed laughter echoing through the badwater arena. As he held his own beam to treat the larger man, he saw him nod at the machine.  _ “Is ready to go, yes?” _ Ludwig glanced at his device.

On the top display, he could see it was charged - although he was still not used to the rather bulky machine, even he knew what that meant. He nodded at the Heavy as the other team’s Medic and Demo’s charge disintegrated, and started up the secondary switch.

There was blood. Adrenaline. Another bout of crazed laughter filled the desert as the attacking Medic and Heavy entered the scene. The RED Soldier fell without so much as an unceremonious thud as countless bullets impacted his body. In the corner of his eye - Ludwig could see the RED medic scramble away for his life, barely making it out of the line of raining bullets.

From across the battlefield, the Medic thought he heard someone holler - and through the speakers came the loud, booming voice of the administrator.

_ “Victory!” _

As the ubercharge settled, and the Heavy ran towards the rest of what was left of the defeated RED team - Medic slipped quietly away, and looked for the one man the Heavy failed to kill.

~oOo~

_ “...Heh. I did not think you would find me here.” _

He found him, eventually. In the corner of a closed-off space, the RED Medic was hiding in a room, alone. Heavily injured, and bleeding - Ludwig found him the man as he clutched onto his useless weapons, smiling with a wide, white-faced grin. He was scared.

As Ludwig took the needle gun he had equipped, the man flinched, instinctively whipping out his own weapon. Although he tried to shoot, no needles came out. As dark, and as morbid as it would seem, the Administrator had implemented this effect as a period after the war - a period they called  _ humiliation. _

Needless to say, Ludwig dropped his weapon.

For a moment, the man in red looked down at the fully loaded gun in shock. There was an odd, tense silence between them, before Ludwig finally spoke up.

_ “I am only here to talk.”  _ He said in clear German.

The RED Medic blinked. Initially unable to react, or believe what was going on - he said nothing.

_ “Fellow doctor,”  _ Ludwig coughed as he stood straight, looking down on the injured man.  _ “I have some questions I must ask of you.” _

For a second, he thought he saw a flash of insanity in the face of the man that looked exactly like him. His frown turned into a sneer as he showed his sharp, white teeth.  _ “And what may that be? Fellow brother - I am not a doctor - as much as you are no longer a medicinal practitioner in any sane sense of word.” _

Ludwig looked on at the man with an apathetic gaze.  _ “I may not be any longer - but I once was.”  _ He ended soberly.  _ “May I ask how you lost your license?” _

The RED Medic cocked his head to the side - the faint, almost crazed glint of interest in his eyes betrayed his fierce expression, and his tightly held sneer.  _ “And why would you want to know? Hm? What interest do you have in my history?” _

Ludwig rolled his eyes.  _ “...Please do not escalate this matter.”  _ He sighed.  _ “I mean the truth when I say that I am not planning to use your information for any ill-will. I’ve signed the hippocratic oath - and I intend to stick to it.” _

Ludwig could see the corners of the man’s once-sneer turn up, as if he enjoyed the interesting spin of events.  _ “My god,”  _ He chuckled.  _ “You  _ are  _ a doctor.” _

_ “Well?”  _ Ludwig tapped his fingers impatiently.  _ “I have stated my question. I expect an answer.” _

The RED Medic grinned.  _ “...Dead bodies and experiments.”  _ He finally said.  _ “That is what caused me my license.” _

For a brief second, Ludwig felt a brief flame in his heart as the RED Medic stated his reason. Maybe it was the casual way in which he said it - or the fact that he had now confirmed it was  _ him _ who had cost him his last job. His deep, almost menacing voice betrayed his anger as he said his next words.

_ “I knew it.” _

The RED Medic blinked. Sensing his sudden change of attitude, he froze up once again, briefly, before cracking another grin.  _ “We are very similar, are we not, brother?”  _ He laughed.  _ “My name is Ludwig.”  _ He said as he reached out his hand for a handshake.

_ “I know.”  _ Ludwig said, as he slowly reached for his bonesaw.

“ _ I know.” _

~oOo~

As he stood before the abandoned church he was told to meet him in - the BLU Medic looked up. Hesitantly placing his hand on the door knob, he heard the sound of birds before he saw their presence.

As he opened the door to the large, if not desolate church hall, he saw a dove fly towards him.

“Archimedes!” The RED Medic shouted as the dove landed on the other man’s shoulder. “I am terribly sorry, my dear brother. He seems to like you - as a perch, most likely.” He laughed warmly.

As the Medic shooed off the white dove from his shoulder, he walked towards the man in RED.

It was funny, he supposed - how things turned out. He didn’t  _ like  _ the man, under any circumstances - but he was tolerable enough to work with as a colleague.

It was after that fateful battle, when the RED Medic had first gotten in contact with the BLU Medic. Introducing himself as a man of science, he was rather  _ interested _ in the odd, but stoic BLU Doctor. Although he found the man’s fascination towards him rather weird, to say the least - he did enjoy the man’s perspectives, and his knowledge on certain topics.

Through collaboration, despite competition, the two men had grown together with an odd, but unshakable bond. It was through this bond that the BLU Medic was called on today.

“He is in the confessionary chambers.” The Medic nudged towards the end of the hall. “It is not much, but ve thought it might be enough privacy for zhe both of you.” He patted him lightly on the back. “Good luck.”

Although he didn’t like him - although he  _ swore _ to never become like him, the BLU Medic could admit there was an odd charm about the crazed man of science. He was warm in personality, at the very least.

As he entered the chamber, he heard the man whisper to one of his two doves - and left the past behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update - I was working on a post-hardcore (think hollywood undead type) album that's going to launch on Oct 7. Its about depression, and my poor af mental health, cause what the fuck else am I supposed to write about. Anyways thats done so have another chapter.
> 
> [Youtube playlist link to the album is here if you'd like](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLOwkKjDf3DF9nTUv8tcdWpkJtoLgdDKGY)


	3. An Oath to Hippocrates

As the doctor sat in the small, broken down chamber, he heard the RED Scout in the chamber beside him huff.

“...It’s about fuckin’ time.” He sighed. “Get me outta here, I ain’t gonna fucking speak.”

Medic blinked apathetically as he looked to his side. Beside him the wall had a meshed window of sorts - it was bug-bitten and tattered, but still hid the expression of the RED Scout rather well. All he could really see was the younger man’s silhouette, and it seemed to be facing him, rather sure that he was the RED medic.

“Hello,” Medic greeted him. “I am not your Doctor.”

There was a surprised silence on the other end of the chamber. Maybe it was his calm demeanour, or the detached tone of his voice - but the younger man immediately knew who he was dealing with. He groaned. “You  _ gotta _ be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Rolling his eyes, but otherwise ignoring RED’s response, the Medic continued. “I am not, unfortunately.” He heard another groan. “I understand zhe circumstances of your being here - it vas due to a suicide attempt, correct?”

There was a beat of silence. “...And what do you wanna know about it,  _ deutschbag _ ?” Although the medic couldn’t see his expression, he heard the clear discontempt in his words. He sighed. “Being uncooperative will only make zhe process longer. And more painful.” He added. “I am only here to help you Junge, I do not wish to start a fight.”

There was another beat. The silence felt tense, and in the brief quiet the Medic could hear RED’s gears turning in his (hypothetical) brain. “...The Doc tied up my fucking arms and legs.” He finally said. “At least get me outta these ropes, then I’ll give up an’ talk.”

“And vhat vill stop you from running away?” He questioned the young man. “It's not like I have a guarantee zhat you vouldn’t try.”

The Scout sighed. “...Fine,” He mumbled. “You have my word. I ain’t gonna run. Just get me outta this.” He said tiredly.

The Medic raised his eyebrows, but obliged. Coming out of the confession chamber he was in, he turned behind him to see the RED Medic, who approached him with his two doves on each shoulder.

“We vill be speaking in zhe open.” The Medic addressed the other man quietly. “I suggest zhat you leave zhis place for now.”

The RED Medic nodded. “He is being cooperative, I assume?” He smirked. “I may have…  _ spiked _ his last drink, with a  _ decent  _ amount of CBD.” The Medic blinked. That made sense then.

“Thank you.” He replied curtly.

The RED Medic, picking up a briefcase with his equipment as he turned to leave, raised his hand in gesture. “It is no problem, mein brother.” He laughed. “Just make sure zhat he is back in one piece. Nobody else has to know.”

As he walked away to leave, one of the birds that nested on his shoulders flew towards the Medic. Flinching slightly asit honed in and landed on his shoulder, the RED Medic shouted sternly. “Hippocrates!”

The Medic, unsure of what to do, stood quietly as he saw the RED Medic’s face turn from a concerned scowl, to a slight smile. “He must like you.” He hummed. “Do not vorry, doves have incredible homing skills. He vill come back to me when he wants to.”

Waving his hand as he left the small church’s doors, the RED Medic looked back a final time.

“Good luck - and do be careful vith vhat you say.” He chuckled quietly. “I trust you, but I hope zhe boy doesn’t learn to trust you  _ too _ much.” There was a playful glint in his eyes. “Bonds may be shared here - but on the battlefield, ve are still enemies.”

~oOo~

There was an awkward silence shared between the two opposing mercenaries, as they sat side by side within the decrepit church. RED seemed calm, but tired (an after effect of the CBD, Medic noted), and remained eerily quiet. Not a word was spoken between the two, until the Scout finally cleared his throat.

"So what, you're like my therapist or somethin' now?"

The Medic raised a brow. Unsure of what to say, he decided to say the truth. "I suppose so." He said monotonously.

RED stared at him, his eyes squinting in question. He was trying to figure him out. "... Aren't ya supposed to make me talk or something?"

"Well," Medic shrugged. "I vould like you to trust me before we begin digging into anything." RED's eyes widened, just a fraction. "I am not your enemy, Junge. I am only here to help you."

RED was quiet for a moment. Casting his gaze down thoughtfully, he kept his folded arms in their stiff position before his chest. Guarded, but intrigued by this odd doctor, he blurted out without thinking. "Man, you're nothing like that other doc."

Medic's brow rose, then furrowed. "...Please do not compare me to him." His voice was soft, but there was a darker tone that suggested something different. At that sudden, cold response, RED couldn't help but give him a surprised glance. Catching his almost fearful gaze, the Medic sighed, and adjusted his glasses. "I'm sorry - I'm too used to being compared to him for my comfort."

RED looked away. In a soft voice that the Medic almost could've missed if he wasn't sitting so close to him, he heard the young man speak. "...I get that."

Medic raised a brow in question. With the doc urging him to continue, the RED Scout sighed. "I get compared to that BLU fucker. A lot." He sighed, readjusting his still-folded arms. "The demo says it, the doc says it - hell, even Miss Pauling compares me to him." He huffed angrily. "Why can't you be more of a gentleman like BLU, why can't you be more sociable like BLU, yadda yadda, fuck off." He said mockingly.

The corner of Medic's mouth rose slightly in amusement. He didn't realize the RED saw his counterpart like that. Catching the Doctor's curious gaze, the RED Scout retorted angrily. "Look, it ain't my problem that I'm a hot-head. I  _ had _ to be. To survive where I came from." Medic continued to smile as the Scout ranted on. "I was an only child in a piss-poor family. My ma needed the support. I never knew my fuckin dad. I was the only one she had. I  _ needed _ to be tough for her, until -" RED paused. "...Until we stopped being poor." He muttered.

As another lapse of silence befell the two, Medic remained silent. Carefully choosing his next words, he spoke quietly. "You can trust me, Scout." As RED looked to him with a doubtful, but questioning gaze - the Medic continued. "I am here to help you. I have no interest in telling anyone of what you share here - and I will keep any secrets you need me to keep." He raised his left palm towards the boy - as if taking an oath - and said softly. "I swear on Hippocrates."

From the other end of the room, a certain bird heard it's name being called, and decided it was time to make an appearance. Flying towards the open left hand of the Medic, it missed it's mark and swooped on the exposed head of the RED Scout.

"Hey - ow,  _ ow!" _ RED yelped as he jumped off his seat, the moment completely ruined. "Get off me ya damn bird!" He swung blindly as the dove took flight once again, this time landing on the Medic's shoulder and peering fearfully from it's perch at the young man. "I  _ swear _ one day I'm gonna turn you damn birds into fried pieces of -"

Despite himself, Medic chuckled. His quiet chuckling caught the unruly RED's attention as he turned a bright, beet red. "...Please don't tell the doc I said that." He looked down.

"Not to vorry, I will not." The Medic said softly as the chuckling died down. "I know he vill do something worse than  _ just _ turn you into fried Scout if he catches wind of what you just said." Medic smiled at him. "...And I took an oath. Remember?"

For a second, all the RED could do was stare at the doctor incredulously. Was he really being serious?

The Medic, cocking his head slightly to the side, gazed questioningly onto the Scout. "Are you alright?"

Catching himself, the Scout looked away. "...I'm just not used to decent people, is all." He huffed as the Medic raised a brow. "...And you seem like a decent person." He ended softly.

At that the Medic beamed, a genuine smile crossing his face. "I see you have decided to trust me?"

"Not with everything." The Scout promptly replied. "Not just yet. I'm sayin' I could give you a chance." He muttered, looking away from the Doctor.

Medic nodded. "That's a better chance than I could ever hope for." He smiled.

Things were off to a good start.

~oOo~

As the Medic and the RED Scout left the decrepit church, they left side by side, still talking with each other. On the Medic's shoulder was the white dove, taking flight once it sensed the coming night. In the sunset of the desert, nobody could see the two as they walked away into the shadows - but a pair of glinting binoculars.

In the wrong time, in the wrong place - a pair of sunglasses revealed a surprised face of an unfortunately oblivious Sniper.

"You have  _ got _ to be kidding me."

~oOo~

"...And I ain't kidding here, sarge."

On his bed, the BLU Scout mumbled at a small cage - within it encased a small, yellow gecko. Munching happily on some sort of large beetle, the small hunter - named Srgt. Yellow by the Soldier who had found him - didn't seem to care much for what the distressed Scout had to say.

"What am I supposed to do? I ain't no  _ fag _ or nothin' - I just love the Doc. And that's it. I can't be gay. Right?" The Scout flopped on his back. "It's not like I even  _ like him _ cause he's a  _ dude _ \- I like him cause he's  _ him. _ Ya know? Not cause he's handsome or anything. Not that I'm saying he isn't handsome as shit - but, ya know? I ain't into that. I think." He looked towards the small gecko.

"Help me out here sarge - you're the only one I can talk to. I swear to God, you're like the only one I can trust in this goddamn -"

"...Are you talking to that lizard again mate?"

If it was possible for a human's bones to jump out of their skin, that's what would have happened to the Scout at that very moment. He didn't even  _ notice _ his door opening just a peek as the Sniper stared on, his eyes piercing behind his usual sunglasses. For his large figure and slow movements, the Sniper was surprisingly stealthy when he wanted to be.

"How the fuck- didn't your parents ever teach you to fuckin'  _ knock?!"  _ The Scout almost screeched as he instinctively hid the cage of Srgt. Yellow, as if he could hide the fact he was talking about  _ personal _ subjects to a lizard.

The Sniper shook his head as he opened the door and let himself into the room. "Ya lonely bastard." He chuckled.

The Scout, now fuming, retorted angrily. "And what the  _ fuck _ do ya want? You better have a good reason for being here at this time."

It was night by then, and most people had gone to sleep at that hour. Although the Sniper coming to his room was a  _ surprise _ to say the least, it wasn't surprising that the notorious night owl was still up and about.

Scratching his head underneath his hat, the Sniper quietly closed the door behind him.

"...I saw something that concerned me today on the hunt."

Scout raised a brow. On the weekends, it wasn't uncommon for the Mercs to leave base and do their own stuff - hobbies, drinking, whatnot - to cool down after battles. Sniper often spent the weekends either on his hammock, or out hunting in the desert wilderness. What he would bring back at the end of the day was always a mystery. For him to say that something was concerning - the Scout assumed the wilderness was dying, or that the desert was freezing or something stupid like that.

"Yeah? And?" The Scout huffed impatiently.

Underneath his sunglasses, the Sniper looked at the Scout dead in the eyes.

"I saw our Medic. He was with the RED Scout."

For some reason, those words were enough to send a shock of electricity through the young man's body. Was it fear? Jealousy? He didn't quite know - but something hit him, and it hit him hard.

"...What's that supposed to mean." He grit his teeth as he said it, in a poor attempt to hide any intentions behind his words.

"I dunno mate," The Sniper said as he scratched his head - oblivious to the Scouts sudden change in tone. "I'm just worried that we got another Soldier and Demo situation on our hands."

Scout sighed. For some reason, that was the last thing he wanted to hear.

"Why are you telling me this anyway?" Scout questioned the Sniper, his voice barely above a mutter. "It's not like I'm supposed to care about this."

The Sniper shrugged. "You're my closest friend here. I supposed I should tell you before I told anyone else. I'm not really sure what to do about it either."

The Scout's eyes lit up. "...Don't tell anyone -  _ yet." _ He added hastily. "I know the Doc - I could maybe talk him outta this before it bleeds into the battlefield." The Scout looked on at the Sniper. "Trust me."

The Sniper raised his eyebrows, then shrugged. "Sure mate." He replied nonchalantly. "I saw them at the church - if Medic does go again tomorrow, I reckon he'll be there."

As the Sniper turned to leave, the Scout gripped his hand tightly. There was… something that he didn't want to feel. Not knowing what to do - he shut his eyes, wishing the physical pain he felt in his palm would override any emotion that he felt.

Tomorrow was Sunday. It was about time he went to church.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a majority of this on my phone at 12 am. Goodnight


	4. I Spy With My Little Eyes

"Nein." The Medic rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on - I ain't gonna talk unless I'm comfortable, and there's no way I'm getting comfy in a freaky old church like this!" RED retorted back, a whiny tone to his already high-pitched voice.

The second session had just begun, and the two were already arguing. What had ended off as a (surprisingly) calm truce last time was now being worn off by the Scout - who insisted in leaving the church and talking somewhere else. He was more talkative than last time (Medic noted he should drug him himself on the next session) and definitely more energetic. Now that he had lightly accepted the fact that he was going through with this - it seemed like his mission to make Medic's life a living hell.

Sighing, Medic massaged his temples. “Vhat will make you happy, then?”

At that RED lit up, an indiscernible glint in his eyes. “I know the  _ perfect _ place to talk.” He nudged the tired doctor. “Trust me here doc - they have the  _ best _ pancakes in town.”

~oOo~

Outside the church, BLU Scout was looking anxiously towards the old double doors. With a pair of binoculars he had borrowed from the Sniper, he spied the decrepit building, and its unknowing occupants.

In his chest pocket, Srgt. Yellow was curled up and sleeping peacefully, basking in the warmth of the Scout’s body. Unknown to the small lizard, Scout’s heart was beating fast, not because he was stalking a good meal - but because he was anxious. And there was no doubt in anyone else’s eyes - he was anxious as all hell.

Using the excuse that he needed to  _ ‘walk the lizard’ _ to a questioning Soldier, he ran to the nearby church, just in time to see the Medic and RED Scout enter the battered building. Although he had been telling himself to be calm for the last hour that they were in there, it wasn’t doing much to help him.

Apparently, Sniper saw correctly.

His stomach churning uncomfortably, Scout hid himself in the overgrown shrubbery near the church. Time and time again he had told himself that the Medic must have a  _ very _ good reason to be going around town with the RED Scout, but the longer he waited for the two outside, wondering what to do, the more confused he became. As he clenched his teeth in discomfort, he wondered what the two were doing in there.

They were alone, two grown men in a creepy-ass old church. With nobody but themselves for miles around. RED and BLU weren’t supposed to mix, and they usually didn’t. The only times they did, they were basically more than friends...

_ Nope! _ Scout shook his head vigorously.  _ Nah, no, nadda. Zip. I ain’t thinkin’ about that.  _ Catching himself blushing at the thought, he put his palm to his forehead and sighed.

_...What am I even doing here? _

Internally he knew - he had no business in messing around with the Medic’s ordeals, nor did he have any right to intrude on whoever Medic wanted to talk to, or have a (friendly, strictly friendly!) relationship with. It wasn’t like the Medic was dating him, or loved him, or anything like that. He wasn’t the Medic’s boyfriend or something, and getting jealous over the Medic like this made him wonder.  _ Why does this shit even matter to me? _

For a moment Scout’s brain went silent. Closing his eyes tightly, the thought that didn’t dare slip out, even in his own mind, threatened to break free.

_ I want Medic to be mine. _

He heard the doors creak open. Almost stumbling out from his hiding spot, he managed to maintain his composure enough to see the Medic and the RED Scout exit the church and walk towards the direction of the town. The two were talking quietly, and from what he could see from his hiding place in the bushes, it looked like RED was smiling. Although the Medic was scowling at the younger man, it looked as though they were having a good time in each other’s company.

Too surprised by their sudden appearance to confront the two, the Scout held back in his spot, then sighed. He was going to follow them. Again.

Where this would lead to, only a God in an old, decrepit church may know.

~oOo~

“Here’s ya order of two large pancakes hunny.”

As the plates were set on the garishly clothed table, Medic took one look at the pancakes, then back up at the RED Scout.

“...You do realize zhat I am paying for zhis, with my own money, right?” He sighed audibly as RED began to dig overzealously into his meal.

RED looked up. “Yeah. So? What’sh up.” He said with his mouth full.

RED had chosen this small, but otherwise busy diner to be his location for therapy. When asked about his privacy, he said that,  _ ‘nobody’s going to give a shit, the place is loud, and the pancakes are too damn good’. _

Medic massaged his temples. Had the RED Scout been more cooperative (and drugged beforehand) there would have been no need to resort to such places to conduct therapy. But he was not, and unfortunately, Medic didn’t have anything particularly effective against the hyperactive Scout. Medic sighed again.

“Anyways,” Medic coughed, pushing away the plate of pancakes before him. “Tell me about your history.”

RED shrugged, stuffing another forkful of pancakes in his mouth. “Grew up in the projects. I was a single kid. Ma was dirt poor, an’ we lived with gran’ until the money started coming in.” He paused. “Then suddenly we weren’t poor anymore, and I moved. Job happened. I don’t talk with Ma anymore.” He ended swiftly.

Medic raised a brow. “Surely you can give me more than just zhat.”

RED shrugged dismissively in response.

“Alright,” Medic pushed. “Vhat about zhe money? Vhere did zhat come from?”

For a second, Scout’s hand stopped. Quickly resuming the shoveling of pancakes in his mouth, he spoke with his mouth full. “...Apparently someone was giving her…  _ donations. _ ” He said quietly. “Now I know it was my Pop’s - but I’d never met the bastard in my life.” He ended bitterly. “She lived fuckin’  _ rich _ with that money - she even put me into this fancy-ass private school. Never liked it there.”

Medic frowned in thought. “...How vas school like?”

RED glared back silently in response.

~oOo~

_ “Congratulations, you made it.” _

Jeremy’s eyes lit up, as he slumped back in his chair in disbelief.  _ “I… I did?” _

The coach shook his head and chuckled.  _ “‘Course ya did, you’re the best damn runner I’ve ever seen!”  _ He held out his hand.  _ “Welcome to the team.” _

The boy, not much older than 17, whooped for joy.  _ “Fuck yeah!”  _ He hollered as he jumped in place.

_ “Now now,”  _ The coach chided playfully.  _ “You may be on the team - doesn’t mean I can’t kick you out for misconduct.”  _ He smiled.  _ “Watch yourself kid - you got a big future ahead of you.” _

As the runner whooped once more, he didn’t notice a shadow of another person leaving the locker room.

~oOo~

There was a quick moving fist, then a cracking sound coming from his jaw. As Jeremy held his injured face, he wiped the blood dripping from his nose.

_ “Don’t think you’re fucking better than me.” _

He heard jeering, and the cruel laughter of other students.

In the locker room, he was being cornered by a number of other boys. Some on the team, others not - they continued to beat the junior student as he struggled to get free. Pinned by his arms on the lockers, the main bully continued to swing.

He had been the target of a lot of harassment. Jealousy surrounded the boy, and his apparent gift of running. Knowing that they couldn’t catch him if he ran, they pinned him up, making a mockery of him by injuring and exposing the younger student.

It hurt. And the worst part was that he couldn’t even fight back.

Outnumbered, overpowered, he continued to struggle until the boys became bored, and left. Now, alone and sitting on the benches, injured, he held his head in his hands, willing himself with every ounce of self control that he had, to just not break down and cry.

_ “...Are you okay?” _

It was at that moment when his luck hit rock-bottom.

~oOo~

He had made a friend.

A timid, but athletic senior, the older boy seemed like a loyal, decent person. Coming to him after his incident with the bullies - the group seemed to leave him be after noticing that he had started to hang out with him. He was a model student and athlete - in the eyes of possible targets to delinquent bullies, he was the worst person they could lay their hands on.

Liked by everyone, even the teachers and faculty - Scout was amazed that he had chosen a poor kid like himself to be his partner in crime. The more he got to know him, the more he began to like him. They had the same dreams of becoming an athlete - they shared baseball cards and taught each other tricks and tips on how to swing better, catch better, and run faster.

But there were inconsistencies. Discrepancies between the way the boy acted in front of, and behind Jeremy.

Before he knew it, there were the rumors. Somebody had spread that Jeremy was a drug user - that he used illegal substances before matches to get him his advantage of speed. The rumors spread to even the faculty, and it wasn’t long before the dope testing began.

Jeremy wasn’t feeling well that day. He woke up with a headache that seemed to persist no matter what he did to try to ease the pain. It was only when his friend gave him some painkillers when he started feeling a bit better.

There was a dope test that day, and Jeremy, being clean, knew he was going to pass it.

...Until he didn’t.

Confused, almost in tears, he explained to the coach that it must have been a mistake - to test him again. There was no way he took steroids - he had no memory of taking any drugs. As his  _ friend  _ snickered quietly in the fading background, he realized the truth a bit too late.

He was kicked out of the team.

~oOo~

“...Dropped outta school after that.” RED shrugged. “Too much bullshit to deal with - I didn’t like studying, and it wasn’t like I was gonna get ta’ college, after that anyway.”

Medic remained silent for a moment. “...Zhat must have been very hard.”

RED folded his arms defensively. “‘Course it was.” He huffed. “...But it’s in the past now.” RED cast his eyes downwards.

Medic smiled sympathetically. “You know,” He cleared his throat lightly. “It is not a sin to cry.”

There was a beat of silence. RED stared at him as if he was seeing an alien. By the time he had finally set his fork down on his empty plate, all the young man could muster was a single, weak and quiet word.

“...What.”

Medic cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. This was the reason why he didn’t want to have therapy in such a busy place. “I said,” He repeated quietly. “It’s not a bad thing to cry, you know.”

RED furrowed his brow. Slightly raising the tone of his voice, he tapped the table in a nervous irritation. “Where’d ya get  _ that _ from.”

“Well,” Medic shrugged, unbothered by his sudden change of tone. “You’ve been through a lot. You were physically assaulted, doped against your will, and you basically lost a future.” Medic pressed on before the Scout could get any complaints out of his open mouth. “All the while you were struggling just not to cry - and I vill not say that that is wrong - but you need to give yourself time to mourn.”

RED huffed. “I said,” He tapped quickly on the table. “It’s in the past now, I don’t care about it.”

The two remained silent. Around them, the small diner bustled with the sound of laughing crowds of people. In front of Medic, RED put on a brave face, but the slight quiver in his tightly clenched jaw betrayed the bravado that came out of his mouth. Medic sighed. For a brief moment, the young man that sat before him, overlapped with the image of a very similar man - the BLU Scout. Quietly, the Medic sighed.

He wanted to help him.

Casting his gaze down, he spoke as quietly as he could. “I cannot force you to mourn, much as I cannot mourn for you.” He said quietly. “But those were things you could not control - and sometimes the best you can do is to let the past go.” he clasped his hands, and smiled as gently as he could. “Let us leave this diner, I vill pay the bill.”

Not once meeting him in the eyes, RED nodded silently.

~oOo~

They walked in silence. Not a word was shared between the two as they kept pace with each other, walking side by side. Internally, the Medic was massaging his temples. Unsure if what he did was right or wrong, he sighed quietly, looking up towards the sunset sky. It was so long since he did any work like this - he wasn’t sure if he was qualified to help anyone anymore. He wasn’t sure if he still could.

Although he knew in his mind that he wasn’t - he still felt like a failure.

Beside him, Medic heard RED clear his throat. As he looked toward him, he could see the young man fidgeting with the cap on his head.

“Hey,” He said quietly. “I just wanted to say… thanks.”

Medic’s eyes widened, just a fraction. taken aback, he couldn’t respond before the younger man pushed on.

“I’ll be honest… it felt good to talk about it.” He looked away. “Like, it felt good to be heard, ya know? I ain’t never had that before.” A slight blush seeped through his cheeks, as the Medic caught himself smiling. “And thanks,” He muttered. “For not forcing me to cry back there.”

The Medic, his face now a soft mess, beamed at the young man. “It is no problem.” He smiled. “I am your Doctor - but I vant to be your friend.”

RED looked away, his blush spreading even further. “...Whateva.” He pulled down his cap.

“You’re a good man,” He muttered almost inaudibly, as the Medic looked away.

“You’re a good man, Doc.”

~oOo~

On the top of a tree somewhere behind the two, BLU Scout held his head in his hands. His mind whirling with all the worst possible scenarios in mind, he muttered to himself.

He  _ needed _ to stop this - whatever it was.

And he was going to do it, tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mental health is better now, guess who's back boyyy


	5. A Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it have a mini chapter

There was a light knocking on the infirmary doors.

Medic, absentmindedly flipping through paperwork on his usual desk, looked up. “Come in.” He beckoned to the unknown guest.

It was about 10 pm, when most others would have gone to bed to get ready for the coming day of battle. In this time of night, unannounced guests usually included the Demoman or Engineer - men who often tinkered on their inventions well into the night. When the doors swung open, the Medic was surprised to see that it was neither of the two, but the Scout, standing timidly before him.

Medic cocked his head to the side, an amiable smile forming at his lips. The Scout didn't often come unannounced, but he was a welcome distraction nonetheless.

"Welcome, Scout. I vas not expecting you to come over this evening."

Scout, his eyes downcast, scratched at his ear. He was unusually quiet - even though he was often the one to initiate conversation well before Medic could say his first greetings. Fiddling with his fingers, it was then the Medic noticed something….odd.

For the first time in what felt like a long time, the Scout wasn't smiling.

Although he didn't smile all the time, he often had a cheery demeanour around him - an infectious and genuine happiness that seemed to radiate from the young man whenever he was in the infirmary. Even in silence he seemed content to be in his office - and although the Medic didn't know exactly why, he felt the same way as the Scout did whenever he was there with him. But now standing there, fidgeting quietly, the Scout seemed the furthest thing from happy. His face etched in an unreadable tight-lipped frown, he stood there, seemingly contemplating his next actions.

"...Scout?" Medic asked hesitantly.

There was a beat of silence. When the Scout finally spoke up, it was barely a quiet mutter that reached the Medic's ears.

"...I saw you hanging out with the RED Scout today."

Medic froze. He had meant to keep this a secret from the others, lest they intervene or disapprove of the Medic's actions to help RED. None of the team was supposed to ever find out - so why did the Scout of all people - know about this?

Medic stood from his desk, taking a few steps towards the Scout before him. Although he didn't mean for his words to come out abrasively, the lowered tone of his quiet voice echoed threateningly in the infirmary room.

"How did you find out?"

Scout flinched. Ripping his gaze from the Medic, he shook his head. "I saw you guys in the diner. I - I didn't mean to follow you I just…"

Medic took a few steps closer. Now standing in front of the Scout, he clutched onto him, as gently as he could, by the shoulders.

"Please do not tell zhe team."

Now, threateningly close, the Medic could see what he thought was… fear, in the Scout's eyes. An emotion that he never wanted to see - especially from him.

"...Why?" Scout asked, barely a quiet whisper. "Why are you threatening me?"

Medic flinched. He had not meant for it to come out like that. At all. It was a force of habit for him to use intimidation over trust, and he had used it on the wrong person, in the worst situation possible. He let go of the Scout, and took a step back, leaning on the desk behind him.

"I..." He stuttered. "I am sorry, Herr Scout." He massaged his temples. "I didn't mean for it to come as a threat. I do trust zhat you vill not speak to the others regarding this matter."

Scout folded his arms, his lips pushed tightly together. "Why were you with RED." He asked, his tone more a command than a question.

The older man shook his head. "I cannot say." He sighed. "It does not concern you."

Scout glared at him, his features turning darker as he looked onwards at the doctor. "Look, I ain't gonna judge if you wanna be friends with those RED fuckers, but he's not someone you should be messin' around with. The guy's a bastard."

Medic looked up. His face turning into an instinctive scowl, he almost spat out his next words. "...You know nothing."

Scout glared up, the blood reaching his face. "Look," He raised his voice. "I'm tryna protect you here, doc! The guy is the worst outta the RED team, and I swear to God if you're gonna try to be friendly with that fucker than I will not fuckin stay by your side and nod my head like an idle housewife to everything you fucking say!" He fumed. "He's said things… he's said things about us."

Medic cocked his head in confusion. "...Us? Vhat about us?"

"He said…" Scout suddenly went quiet. "He said we were faggots."

An awkward silence spread across the room.

When Medic broke the silence, with a quiet chuckling, it was the Scout who visibly flinched.

~oOo~

"...What the fuck are you laughing about."

The Scout barely seethed through his clenched teeth.

As the Medic's soft chuckles turned to a heavy, loud laughing, Scout held back tears of anger.

"Oh," The Medic sighed as he wiped the tears from his face. "He saw us like zhat?" He chuckled.

"Like lovers, hm?" He hummed, shaking his head. "He is mistaken. It cannot be further from the truth." He sighed.

Scout's right hand, now unconsciously curled into a fist, trembled ever so slightly.

 _Fuck you_.

"What am I to you then."

"Oh? A colleague, nothing more." The Medic smiled.

 _Fuck you_.

Standing before him, the Medic leaned back onto his desk, exposing his loosely knotted tie and his crumpled shirt underneath his lab coat. He looked tired, like he had been working all night, despite the numerous times Scout had told him to cut it out. It was a familiar sight, yet somehow he still managed to see it in an odd light.

In the shadow of the dimly lit infirmary, the Medic looked beautiful.

"Vhat am I to you?"

 _...Fuck you_.

Without thought, moving purely on some sort of animalistic instinct, the Scout grabbed the Medic's tie. Propelling himself up on his toes to reach the taller man's height, he closed his eyes tightly - as he pulled him down into a kiss.

Time seemed to slow to a stop.

What was a messy, forceful attempt at pushing his lips against the Medic's - turned into something more when he found the Medic pushing back against him. When he opened his mouth, he felt the Medic reciprocate as he snaked his tongue in between the Medic's lips.

This was happening. This was really happening.

The kiss tasted...sweet, and it was a taste that the Scout couldn't seem to get enough of. Melting into the older man's arms, he found himself caught into an embrace as the two leaned against the Medic's desk behind them.

Everything was a blur.

Small moans escaped the young man's lips as he pushed forward, eager to please the Medic. He held on tightly, as if the larger man would disappear once he loosened his grip. As if everything would fade away.

When he finally pulled back, he opened his eyes to see the Medic's blue eyes staring back at him in the same shock that he was feeling.

Suddenly scared, in realization of what he had done, the Scout ripped himself away from the Medic's embrace, and did what he did best.

He ran.

And when he ran from the infirmary, out of sight of the Medic, he did not look back.


	6. Pancakes and a side of Depression

_ “Mission begins in 30 minutes.” _

As the speakers blared the usual commands, a certain RED Soldier couldn’t help but notice that his team’s Scout was humming as the runner tied his shoelaces.

“You look to be in a good mood today, young man.”

The RED Scout’s face brightened as he looked up. “Hell yeah dude!” He cheered. “I am on  _ top _ of my game today! I been battin’ a thousand, and I’m feeling good!”

The Soldier smiled at him. “Then I have high hopes you will demolish the enemy today - we are on a losing streak and it’s about time we show’em what we’re made of.” He punched him ever so lightly on the shoulder. “Go get em tiger, let’s destroy those damn BLUs!”

For barely a moment, the Scout seemed to wince. Had it been at any other time, the RED Soldier may have not noticed - but he had been keeping a close eye on the boy for some time now.

Soldier frowned. “What’s wrong boy?” He raised his helmet to look him in the eye. “You’ve been acting off lately young man - frankly I’m a bit worried about you.”

RED shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been feeling… uh, what’s the word? Clinically depressed, I think. Like the fancy shmancy diagnosis word for not being on top of it.” He turned away. “It’s aight. I’m fine.”

Soldier looked at him, a hard glint of concern in his eyes. “Young man - I know what depression is.” He said thoughtfully. “You know… I wager Demo had it too, after  _ that _ incident with the damn BLUs. He couldn’t even bear to look at me for a while.” Soldier shook his head. “I swear, those BLUs are nothing but scum, especially that Soldier is-”

“Look,” Scout snapped, his sudden irritation apparent by the edge in his voice. “Can you stop talking about the BLU’s like that. Not all of them are  _ bad _ ya’know.”

Behind his thick helmet, the Soldier raised his brows in surprise. “And what do you mean by that? They’re our enemy, Scout.” His voice dropped ever so slightly. “...Don’t tell me you’ve been  _ fraternizing _ with the  _ enemy, _ young man. You  _ know  _ what happened to our Demo.”

Discontempt clear in his voice, RED mumbled. “Yeah yeah. I get it. You’re  _ worried _ about me. You’re not my old man, stop acting like it.” He scoffed quietly. “Look, I ain’t trying to make any  _ friends  _ here, alright? I’m just saying that there are decent people on that team.”

Soldier narrowed his brow, but didn’t immediately act on his irritation. “Then show me what you’re made of, kid.” He let his helmet fall on his face, shadowing any form of expression that could be seen in his eyes. “If you really are on about what you say - kill those BLUs today. Remember - it’s your duty.”

_ “Mission begins in 15 minutes.” _

~oOo~

It was a losing day on BLU’s end.

As the team shuffled into the commons after their mission, Scout took one glance at the Sniper talking with the Medic, and slipped away from the crowd. His mood wasn’t that great after the losing battle to begin with, and knowing that he would have to see the Medic during dinner made it significantly worse. He decided to shut himself off in his room, and not come out.

Ignoring his rumbling stomach, he made his way to the second floor dorms.

Shutting the door behind him, he took one look at his room and sighed. When the incident between Soldier and Demo happened, he had lost some of his stuff, and his room felt strangely barren. Although he’d mostly only lost some photos and posters in the ‘accident’, it felt odd to not have his room filled to the brim with illustrations of comic book superheroes and baseball players hanging off the walls. There were empty spaces now, and he didn’t know how to fill them.

It was funny, how a single, unprovoked accident could cause you to lose so much - leaving nothing but faint burn marks and a hole you could never fill back the same way.

_ God, it’s like my heart. _

That single, fleeting thought caught him by surprise. Burying his face in his hands, he sighed as he hid from embarrassment. He did  _ not _ want to think about the Medic right now.

It was an  _ accident _ . He did  _ not _ mean to kiss him, or to confess his feelings, or to even remotely do  _ any  _ of the stuff he did that night. It was like an explosion. Something bubbled up in him, and he didn’t know what to expect when it - that  _ feeling _ \- overtook him.

To be honest, he didn’t know what to call it. It was like a longing - a  _ thirst _ almost - to confess how he felt. A craving for that lingering  _ yearning _ to be reciprocated, and accepted by the person he loved.

_...Love? _

Scout blushed, the blood beating in his ears.

_ Yeah dumbass.  _ A small voice inside his head mocked him.  _ It’s love. You love him. _

The Scout grit his teeth, and then groaned. Desperately dragging his fingers down his face, he flopped onto his bed and decided it was best to hide underneath the sheets.

Curling into a ball underneath the covers, he felt his heart beat uncomfortably loudly. A rush of blood still dominated his cheeks, ears and neck, and as he hugged his legs he could feel his heartbeat quickening in his chest at the thought of the Medic.

“...Now what.” He muttered to himself.

He was in love with a dude. Not just any dude - it was the  _ Medic.  _ A coworker. An older man. A man so ancient he’d probably seen dinosaurs go extinct or something. And even worse - he’d  _ confessed  _ to that guy. If anyone else found out, he was in for an ass-whooping. Definitely. What would his Mom say? His brothers?

_ I always knew you were a faggot.  _ A voice snickered in his mind.

No. No, no way. He could  _ not _ do this. He shouldn’t. It was wrong.  _ Everything _ about this was wrong.

Deep in his own thoughts, the Scout curled into a ball and hugged his legs tightly. Overwhelmed by his own brain, and his own feelings, he could feel himself on the verge of tears.

Why did any of this have to happen.

~oOo~

“The Scout’s not here.” Demo mused, his mouth filled with broccoli.

It was supper in the commons, and Medic was picking at his plate of vegetables, deep in his own thoughts. It was a losing battle that day, and everyone was rather quiet, eating at their own pace instead of the usual chit chat that happened during meals. It didn’t help that the noisiest member of the lot wasn’t here, and the silence today felt heavier than usual at the team’s dinner table.

“I reckon he’s in his room.” Sniper shrugged. “He didn’t look so good when the battle ended - poor lad, something bad must’ve happened to ‘im.”

Medic nodded absentmindedly. It probably wasn’t the battle getting to him.

“Well?” Engineer brought in another plate with food loaded on it. “Any takers? I reckon we might as well eat it if the boy’s not feeling hungry.”

The Medic sighed. That probably wasn’t the  _ best _ idea on the Engineer’s part. The Scout was arguably one of the most active members of the team, and if they didn’t want him to have a ‘down’ day, it was best to give him enough food and rest to maintain his performance.

_ Yes.  _ Medic nodded at nobody but himself.  _ His performance is what I am concerned about. _

Medic sighed. “...I volunteer to bring it to zhe boy. If he needs any sort of medical attention, I can check him up on the way.”

Engineer shrugged. “Why not.” He handed the plate over to the Medic.

As the Medic absentmindedly rose from his table and walked over to the halls with the plate in his hand, the Demo took one glance at the Medic’s plate, then another glance over at the Sniper.

The Medic had left over half of his food on the plate. He clearly hadn’t eaten much himself, but was bringing over the plate to the Scout.

Demo nudged at the Sniper. “Is somethin’ botherin’ him ya wager?” He asked quietly. “Man’s barely eaten a thing.”

Sniper, rigid as usual, shrugged. “Not a clue.” He sipped at his coffee.

The Engineer glanced at Medic’s plate and scowled, clearly noticing the food that he had left. It was a shame for it to go to waste, and there were probably people who’d take it, despite being half-eaten.

“So,” Engineer said as he lifted the Medic’s plate up. “Any takers?”

~oOo~

Scout was pretty sure he was having a meltdown.

He wasn’t one to cry, but the tears squeezed themselves out as his thoughts revolved endlessly inside his brain. A lot of things crossed his mind at the time - a flurry of disgust in himself and sadness in the situation. There was no way he could just go back to normal with the Medic after doing…  _ that. _ He’d have to avoid him, but he really,  _ really _ didn’t want to.

As much as his heart ached, it felt full. The memory of the kiss spun around his brain non-stop, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Medic liked it too. There was a reciprocity in the kiss, and as the thoughts glossed over the horrible situation and the untimely confession (which could mean the possible end between any friendship he and the Medic had) he found himself longing for the Medic’s warm embrace - and his soft, surprisingly gentle lips.

There was no going back. He couldn’t just make it out like it never happened. Not after that.

The Scout clutched at his heart, his flowing tears turning into sobs as he softly gasped for air. Feelings were complicated, and he didn’t know how to handle them very well. He was afraid that he’d  _ broke  _ something - an illusion that he shouldn’t have touched, shouldn’t have looked directly in the eye. He was scared. The Medic probably wouldn’t see him in the same way anymore, and he didn’t know what that would mean. They’d probably go back to ignoring each other again - make it like there was nothing between them at all. He was terrified - but mostly, he felt like he was in physical pain.

The longing kept tugging at his heart, sending jolts of shock throughout his body. It was a feeling that taunted him, telling him that it would never happen again. The logic in his brain said that what he did was wrong - what he did was sin - and Medic wouldn’t accept that. He was too much of a  _ good _ man, too perfect to accept such flaws.

Everything he had looked on from afar was broken now, and he didn’t know what to do.

As he sobbed beneath the sheets, a quiet knock came from beyond the door.

Behind it, Medic stood quietly, suddenly very aware of the fact that he was standing in front of the Scout’s room. Quietly contemplating on just leaving the food on the floor and running, he used every inch of willpower he had to steel himself from moving away from that door. Gritting his teeth, he knocked again, louder this time.

“Leave me alone.” Scout’s muffled voice sounded from within the room.

Medic sighed. “Nein, Scout.” He said as gently as his clenched jaw would let him. “I am here vith your food.”

There was silence on the other end, and then Medic heard a shuffling from within the dorm room. The door creaked open, just an inch, and from the crack he could see the Scout in his cap, his hat shadowing his reddish-colored eyes.

“...Thanks.” Scout said monotonously, an edge to his quiet voice. “Leave it on the ground, I’ll eat it later.”

“Scout I-” Medic spoke nervously.

“Look,” Scout raised his palm, signalling the Medic to stop. “I don’t want to hear it. Not now. I’m sorry.” He said, his voice still hoarse. “I can’t handle any of this - I need to think.”

The Medic grit his teeth. It wasn’t like this wasn’t affecting him either. He had been anxious the whole time since the incident, catching himself when he began to fantasize about the kiss on numerous occasions. On one hand it had caught him off guard, and scared him to a degree - but on the other hand, he felt happy that it had happened. It was a memory he was going to cherish.

It felt like a dream to him.

“...I understand.” Medic looked away.

Setting the plate down, he turned his back, as he began to walk away. As the Scout opened the creak in the door just a little bit wider, Medic spoke quietly, as gently as he could.

“I will wait for you, Scout.”

There was a silence behind him, and eventually the door creaked shut. As the Medic walked away from the room, he commanded (and failed) to get his swiftly beating heart to calm.

~oOo~

In a pancake place, not too far off the Teufort base, two regulars (at this point) made themselves comfortable on the wide, sprawling diner chairs.

“What’ll you have?” The waitress asked as she glanced at the two strangers, a young man and an older man in glasses.

“Two servings of pancakes please.” The younger man ordered without even looking at the menu, as the waitress jotted their order down.

“Anything else?”

“Nah, we’re good.” RED smiled at the waitress, as the Medic cleaned his glasses for the second time in those ten minutes.

As the two watched the waitress leave their table, Medic set his glasses back on his face, absentmindedly smudging the lens he had just cleaned.

“...How are you feeling today?” The Medic said quietly towards the younger man.

“Not too bad honestly.” RED shrugged, a finger tapping on the table. “I’m honestly kinda liking these pancake visits too.” He smiled softly. “It feels kinda like I made a friend.”

“So what do we talk about now?” RED clasped his hands. “To be honest, I kinda wanna know about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new year new chapter lol. It was about time


End file.
